Singapore
They grouped together about the chief
And each one looked at his mate,
Ashamed to think that Australian men
Should meet such bitter fate!
And black was the wrath in each hot heart
And savage oaths they swore
As they thought of how they had all been ditched
By "Impregnable" Singapore.
In her vaunted place she squatted the sea
On a base that was Maginot bred
Her startled face looked up at the skies
To the enemy planes o'erhead.
Enemy planes; while ours were - where?
That cry we had heard before
Our hearts were wrung as it rose this time
From beleaguered Singapore.
She brought forth death as her eldest child
With defeat as her second son.
Then she hung a white flag out on a staff
To show that her task was done.
And sick with rage the Australians stood,
And God! how those Anzacs swore -
Bennett and all his men alike -
At the fall of Singapore.
Whose was the fault she betrayed our troops?
Whose was the fault she failed!?
Ask it of those who lowered the flag
At once to the mast was nailed,
Tell them we'll raise it on Anzac soil
With hearts that are steeled to the core
We swear by our dead and captive sons
REVENGE FOR SINGAPORE!
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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Related quotes
My main mission when I became Prime Minister, was to keep Singapore going and Singapore has been kept going. So, I'm happy with what I've done for Singapore.
quote by Goh Chok Tong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singapore I stay
Singapore is were i stay
I love singapore, its safe with no earthquakes!
An island full of people from different nations & tribes
Many food from different countries and ice-kachang too!
Its a place to stay to make you safe with singaporean food i love it too!
So come and join us in singapore! with many attractive places and good friends too!
poem by Iyakami Haroki
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My Brightly Singapore
The deafening roars
Promising faces chanting ‘Singapore, Singapore, Singapore'
Was the acute scene
At the National Stadium where matches to be seen
Is to crown the soccer kingpin
Of South East Asia sovereign
Singapore has done it two times in a row
And three times ever since
A great success for a small nation though
Driving through Pan Island Expressway
Passing by the awesome Marina Bay
Where the bright sun shines on the skyway
Where the airliners flying pass all the way
Right to the world renowned Changi Airport
Crossing above world’s busiest seaport
From the sea
You could see
The brightly surprising skylines
Of Central Business District
Underneath is Mass Rapid Transit Line
Traveling below the Singapore riverbed is poetic
Emerging at Suntec City is ecstatic
Docking at the Esplanade twin ‘Durian’ domes is magnetic
Singapore, Singapore, Singapore
A little red dot on the map
A country you should explore
And learn all the craps
Of being the world’s best
Nanyang Technology
And National University
Are the world’s tops 20
Labor force and school’s education
Are the world’s supreme
Housing and transportation
Are the world’s tops of the cream
Government administration
And financial management
Are the world’s best institutions
Father of Singapore
Lee Kuan Yew
Is the world’s highly regarded
Who has transformed the city-state
Becomes a first world country
His achievements were embedded
No doubt he dictates
But the progress was uncontrary
He has led Singapore to his supremacy
And for BG Lee
The son of the former
You are the icing of the cake
Undisputed, you’re a performer
Keep on and makes
Singapore the proudest ever
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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In flanders
Through sleet and fogs to the saline bogs
Where the herring fish meanders,
An army sped, and then, 't is said,
Swore terribly in Flanders:
"--------!"
"--------!"
A hideous store of oaths they swore,
Did the army over in Flanders!
At this distant day we're unable to say
What so aroused their danders;
But it's doubtless the case, to their lasting disgrace,
That the army swore in Flanders:
"--------!"
"--------!"
And many more such oaths they swore,
Did that impious horde in Flanders!
Some folks contend that these oaths without end
Began among the commanders,
That, taking this cue, the subordinates, too,
Swore terribly in Flanders:
Twas "------------!"
"--------"
Why, the air was blue with the hullaballoo
Of those wicked men in Flanders!
But some suppose that the trouble arose
With a certain Corporal Sanders,
Who sought to abuse the wooden shoes
That the natives wore in Flanders.
Saying: "--------!"
"--------"
What marvel then, that the other men
Felt encouraged to swear in Flanders!
At any rate, as I grieve to state,
Since these soldiers vented their danders
Conjectures obtain that for language profane
There is no such place as Flanders.
"--------"
"--------"
This is the kind of talk you'll find
If ever you go to Flanders.
How wretched is he, wherever he be,
That unto this habit panders!
And how glad am I that my interests lie
In Chicago, and not in Flanders!
"----------------!"
"----------------!"
Would never go down in this circumspect town
However it might in Flanders.
poem by Eugene Field
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For us Australians, Singapore also represents sacred soil. Almost 2000 Australians died here in the defense of your island country and our neighborhood.
quote by Michael Jeffery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rodent
My nocturnal enemy
Sneaking when
I am not awake
You hurt my skin
With your front teeth
Gnawing and eating me
Slowly to death
(Written on October 12 2011 Singapore)
poem by Chester Maynes
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Singapore Border Blues
I came by bus in a swirl of dust in the summer of seventy two.
I was young, I was poor, I hoped to score but I really hadn't a clue.
The seats were hard; I was on my guard when we bolted from the bus.
The border was there, but I had long hair so they readied to hassle us.
They were men in blue, a few women too, taking our arrival card.
They saw my face, they knew their place, they were going to make it hard.
"You have an air; you have long hair so you must observe our laws"
So Kate my friend did a bend and pulled out her best scissors.
She got to work, without a jerk and as quick as a Christmas sale,
She snip here, she snip there until my scalp was bare and pale.
His face turned sour, this was not my hour and he gave me back my case,
"You littered the floor, there's the door, you're not welcomed at this place."
So I left my hair and without much care, I turned and went on with our trip.
My head was bald but I wasn't cold and we eventually caught a ship.
It's been many a year, and Kate's gone from here since that incident.
I have a wife, I have a life and I have been quite content.
I travelled wide, gone with the tide and corners of the world I saw.
I made it a rule, it was even cool, to make sure to avoid Singapore.
Until one day, it would be fair to say, that the city needed my skills,
Return this way, there's plenty of pay, enough to cover my bills.
The flight was easy, I was never queasy, so I walked into the arrival hall:
Airport was clean, like a big machine, but the impression: good overall.
The men were in blue, a woman there too, who took the pass from my hand,
She gave a smile to greet, offered a sweet and welcomed me to this land.
For a small fee, I took the M.R.T., and the ad. there made me stare
Phone Beijing 101*, to have this done: Singapore will re-grow my hair.
In memory of
Kate Langley
1953 - 2006
*Beijing 101 have hair restoration clinics in Singapore
Hawker, the Standard Bearer
The grey gull sat on a floating whale,
On a floating whale sat he,
And he told his tale of the storm and the gale,
And the ships that he saw with steam and sail,
As he flew by the Northern Sea.
"I have seen a sign that is strange and new,
That I never before did see:
A flying ship that roared as it flew,
The storm and the tempest driving through,
It carried a flag and it carried a crew,
Now what would that be?" said he.
"And the flag was a Jack with stars displayed,
A flag that is new to me;
For it does not ply in the Northern trade,
But it drove through the storm-wrack unafraid,
Now, what is that flag?" said he.
"I have seen that flag that is starred with white,"
Said a southern gull, said he,
"And saw it fly in a bloody fight,
When the raider Emden turned in flight,
And crashed on the Cocos lee."
"And who are these folk whose flag is first
Of all the flags that fly
To dare the storm and the fog accurst,
Of the great North Sea where the bergs are nursed,
And the Northern Lights ride high?"
"The Australian folk," said a lone sea-mew,
"The Australian flag," said he.
"It is strange that a folk that is far and few
Should fly their flag where there never flew
Another flag!" said he.
"I have followed their flag in the fields of France,
With its white stars flying free,
And no misfortune and no mischance
Could turn them back from their line of advance,
Or the line that they held," said he.
"Whenever there's ever rule to break,
Wherever they oughtn't to be,
With a death to dare and a risk to take,
A track to find or a way to make,
You will find them there," said he.
"They come from a land that is parched with thirst,
An inland land," said he,
"On risk and danger their breed is nursed,
And thus it happens their flag is first
To fly in the Northern Sea."
"Though Hawker perished, he overcame
The risks of the storm and the sea,
And his name shall be written in stars of flame,
On the topmost walls of the Temple of Fame,
For the rest of the world to see."
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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A Strange Wild Song
He thought he saw an Elephant
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
"At length I realize," he said,
"The bitterness of life!"
He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
"Unless you leave this house," he said,
"I'll send for the police!"
he thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
"The one thing I regret," he said,
"Is that it cannot speak!"
He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus.
"If this should stay to dine," he said,
"There won't be much for us!"
He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a Coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
"Were I to swallow this," he said,
"I should be very ill!"
He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
"Poor thing," he said, "poor silly thing!
It's waiting to be fed!"
poem by Lewis Carroll
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Casabianca
The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames roll'd on...he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud..."Say, father,say
If yet my task is done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
"Speak, father!" once again he cried
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair;
And shouted but one more aloud,
"My father, must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud
The wreathing fires made way,
They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound...
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Surrender
White flag white flag
Jesus be lord of my life
Come and rule that is thine
Fix the shambles And strife
This man is your vassel
Tell me what u want done
Whatever it is, help me i pray
Surrender to one
White flag white flag
Waving in hollow defeat
The enemy has finally won
Brave man hung by the feet
Surrender after surrender
God what have we done! ?
help us please remember
Surrender to one
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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My Rival
If she met him or he met her,
I knew that something must occur;
For they were just like flint and steel
To strike the spark of woe and weal;
Or like two splinters broken fine,
In perfect fitness to combine;
And so I ept them well apart,
For she was precious to my heart.
One time we all three met at church
I tried to give the lad the lurch,
But heard him say: "How like a rose!
is it your daughter , I suppose?"
"Why no," said I; "My wife to be,
And sic months gone wi' child is she."
He looked astonished and distraught:
My boy, that's one for you I thought.
The wife asked: "What a handsome lad!
A sailor . . ." Somehow she looked sad;
And then his memory grew dim,
For nevermore she mentioned him.
And as I be nigh twice her age
I've always thought it mighty sage,
Lest she might one day go astray,
To keep her in the breeding way.
Oh did she ever dream of Jack?
The boy who nevermore came back,
And never will, I heard that he
Was drowned in the China Sea.
I told her not, lest she be sad,
And me? It's mean, but I was glad;
For if he's come into my life
He would have robbed me of my wife.
But when at night by her I lie,
And in her sleep I hear her sigh,
I have a doubt if I did well
In separating Jack and Nell.
And though we have a brood of seven,
Yet marriage may be made in Heaven:
For Nell has cancer, Doctors state,
So maybe 'tis the way of fate
That in the end them two may mate.
poem by Robert William Service
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Taho (english)
Tahooo! ! !
The loud voice
of the young Taho vendor
awokes the children
early in the morning
of Saturdays and Sundays.
The young Taho vendor
he always had the smile
and he always added more Taho
at the same price of two pesos
in every cup of every child.
Taho,
I like it too
it's not only delicious
but nutritious too.
But so sad,
several Saturdays
and Sundays passed by
and the voice
of the young Taho vendor
I heard no more.
Oh, yes...
the young Taho vendor,
he's now in Singapore.
How lucky he is
he could earn more
in Singapore.
Taho,
I'm afraid
I could no longer taste it
and the children....
oh, yes
now they wake up late
on Saturdays and Sundays.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Burial of Sarah
He stood before the sons of Heth,
And bowed his sorrowing head;
"I've come," he said, "to buy a place
Where I may lay my dead.
"I am a stranger in your land,
My home has lost its light;
Grant me a place where I may lay
My dead away from sight."
Then tenderly the sons of Heth
Gazed on the mourner's face,
And said, "Oh, Prince, amid our dead,
Choose thou her resting-place.
"The sepulchres of those we love,
We place at thy command;
Against the plea thy grief hath made
We close not heart nor hand."
The patriarch rose and bowed his head,
And said, "One place I crave;
'Tis at the end of Ephron's field,
And called Machpelah's cave.
"Entreat him that he sell to me
For her last sleep that cave;
I do not ask for her I loved
The freedom of a grave."
The son of Zohar answered him,
"Hearken, my lord, to me;
Before our sons, the field and cave
I freely give to thee."
"I will not take it as a gift,"
The grand old man then said;
"I pray thee let me buy the place
Where I may lay my dead."
And with the promise in his heart,
His seed should own that land,
He gave the shekels for the field
He took from Ephron's hand.
And saw afar the glorious day
His chosen seed should tread,
The soil where he in sorrow lay
His loved and cherished dead.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Malaysiana - Pulau Batu Putih
Pulau Batu Putih
I feel a part of myself
gone too
Pulau Batu Putih
the white stone we fail
to sign our name on
Pulau Batu Putih
the white song we forgot
to sign our name on
MAY 23,2008
THE HAGUE: The International Court of Justice ruled Friday in favour of Singapore in a 28-year sovereignty dispute with Malaysia over the tiny, uninhabited island of Pulau Batu Puteh.
'The court, by 12 votes to four, finds that sovereignty... belongs to the Republic of Singapore, ' Judge Awn Shawkat Al-Khasawneh said, reading out the ruling. - AFP
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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My First Flight
My First Flight
The Silkair-flight took off
at Chennai Airport,
where we paid sixty six rupees for two idlies
which cost six rupees elsewhere.
The wide national highways
seemed narrow lanes.
When the flight seemed moving
in snail's pace over the Bay of Bengal,
I told my wife, 'we'd be too late to Singapore'.
Our neighbour asked me if it was our maiden flight
and told the air-hostess to guide us reach
the flight to Melbourne at Singapore Airport
where in dazzling lights, escalators and Skytrains,
people would be missing out during transit.
I was very precautious to write my 'Will'
and handed it over to my daughter,
for dividing my earnings incase anything untoward happened
as there is danger from the terror, lightning and thunder
and also from the pilot's mishandling of situations.
Round patches of cumulous clouds were seen
over the surface of sea and land.
The flight was above thirty five thousand feet
flying in the speed of more than 900 k.ms/hour.
The journey of sixteen hours fled off without boring
as the avuncular hostesses supplied the food-packets,
fruits, drinks, breads, .. to keep us in good humour.
It was a culture shock to me at Singapore
where people of all the Asian nations and others
boarded the flight to Melbourne.
For myself it was a travel from the austral Asian city
to the austral Australian city but in a route different
from the one traversed by the ancient Tamils
from the lost Lemurian continent to Australian coasts.
---
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Crab That Played with the Sea
China-going P. & O.'s
Pass Pau Amma's playground close,
And his Pusat Tasek lies
Near the track of most B.I.'s.
N.Y.K. and N.D.L.
Know Pau Amma's home as well
As the Fisher of the Sea knows
"Bens," M.M.'s and Rubattinos.
But (and this is rather queer)
A.T.L.'s can qiot come here;
O. and O. and D.O.A.
Must go round another way.
Orient, Anchor, Bibby, Hall,
Never go that way at all.
U.C.S. would have a fit
If it found itself on it.
And if "Beavers" took their cargoes
To Penang instead of Lagos,
Or a fat Shaw-Savill bore
Passengers to Singapore,
Or a White Star were to try a
Little trip to Sourabaya,
Or a B.S.A. went on
Past Natal to Cheribon,
The the great Mr. Lloyds would come
Whith a wire and drag them home!
. . . . .
You will know what my riddle means
When you've eaten mangosteens.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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White Feather
(fish / marillion)
When I hit the streets back in 81
Found a heart in the gutter and a poets crown
I felt barbed wire kisses and icicle tears
Where have I been for all these years?
I saw political intrigue, political lies
Gonna wipe those smiles of self-satisfaction from their eyes
I will wear your white feather I will carry your white flag
I will swear I have no nation but Im proud to own my heart
I will wear your white feather I will carry your white flag
I will swear I have no nation but Im proud to own my heart
My heart, this is my heart
We dont need no uniforms, we have no disguise
Divided we stand, together well rise
We will wear your white feather
All the children
We will carry your white flag
We will swear we have no nations
Beirut children
But were proud to own our hearts
Jeruzalem children
We will wear your white feather
Tokio children
We will carry your white flag
Moscow children
We will swear we have no nations
Washington children
But were proud to own our hearts
Munich children
These are our hearts
Chicago children
These are our hearts
Cairo children
You cant take away our hearts ...
You cant steal our hearts away
I cant walk away I cant walk away
No more, no more, no more, no more...
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ah, Are You Digging on My Grave?
"Ah, are you digging on my grave,
My loved one? -- planting rue?"
-- "No: yesterday he went to wed
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
'That I should not be true.'"
"Then who is digging on my grave,
My nearest dearest kin?"
-- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
Her spirit from Death's gin.'"
"But someone digs upon my grave?
My enemy? -- prodding sly?"
-- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
She thought you no more worth her hate,
And cares not where you lie.
"Then, who is digging on my grave?
Say -- since I have not guessed!"
-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog , who still lives near,
And much I hope my movements here
Have not disturbed your rest?"
"Ah yes! You dig upon my grave...
Why flashed it not to me
That one true heart was left behind!
What feeling do we ever find
To equal among human kind
A dog's fidelity!"
"Mistress, I dug upon your grave
To bury a bone, in case
I should be hungry near this spot
When passing on my daily trot.
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
It was your resting place."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The English Flag
Above the portico a flag-staff, bearing the Union Jack,
remained fluttering in the flames for some time, but ultimately
when it fell the crowds rent the air with shouts,
and seemed to see significance in the incident. -- DAILY PAPERS.
Winds of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro --
And what should they know of England who only England know? --
The poor little street-bred people that vapour and fume and brag,
They are lifting their heads in the stillness to yelp at the English Flag!
Must we borrow a clout from the Boer -- to plaster anew with dirt?
An Irish liar's bandage, or an English coward's shirt?
We may not speak of England; her Flag's to sell or share.
What is the Flag of England? Winds of the World, declare!
The North Wind blew: -- "From Bergen my steel-shod vanguards go;
I chase your lazy whalers home from the Disko floe;
By the great North Lights above me I work the will of God,
And the liner splits on the ice-field or the Dogger fills with cod.
"I barred my gates with iron, I shuttered my doors with flame,
Because to force my ramparts your nutshell navies came;
I took the sun from their presence, I cut them down with my blast,
And they died, but the Flag of England blew free ere the spirit passed.
"The lean white bear hath seen it in the long, long Arctic night,
The musk-ox knows the standard that flouts the Northern Light:
What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my bergs to dare,
Ye have but my drifts to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!"
The South Wind sighed: -- "From the Virgins my mid-sea course was ta'en
Over a thousand islands lost in an idle main,
Where the sea-egg flames on the coral and the long-backed breakers croon
Their endless ocean legends to the lazy, locked lagoon.
"Strayed amid lonely islets, mazed amid outer keys,
I waked the palms to laughter -- I tossed the scud in the breeze --
Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone,
But over the scud and the palm-trees an English flag was flown.
"I have wrenched it free from the halliard to hang for a wisp on the Horn;
I have chased it north to the Lizard -- ribboned and rolled and torn;
I have spread its fold o'er the dying, adrift in a hopeless sea;
I have hurled it swift on the slaver, and seen the slave set free.
"My basking sunfish know it, and wheeling albatross,
Where the lone wave fills with fire beneath the Southern Cross.
What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my reefs to dare,
Ye have but my seas to furrow. Go forth, for it is there!"
The East Wind roared: -- "From the Kuriles, the Bitter Seas, I come,
And me men call the Home-Wind, for I bring the English home.
Look -- look well to your shipping! By the breath of my mad typhoon
I swept your close-packed Praya and beached your best at Kowloon!
"The reeling junks behind me and the racing seas before,
I raped your richest roadstead -- I plundered Singapore!
I set my hand on the Hoogli; as a hooded snake she rose,
And I flung your stoutest steamers to roost with the startled crows.
"Never the lotus closes, never the wild-fowl wake,
But a soul goes out on the East Wind that died for England's sake --
Man or woman or suckling, mother or bride or maid --
Because on the bones of the English the English Flag is stayed.
"The desert-dust hath dimmed it, the flying wild-ass knows,
The scared white leopard winds it across the taintless snows.
What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my sun to dare,
Ye have but my sands to travel. Go forth, for it is there!"
The West Wind called: -- "In squadrons the thoughtless galleons fly
That bear the wheat and cattle lest street-bred people die.
They make my might their porter, they make my house their path,
Till I loose my neck from their rudder and whelm them all in my wrath.
"I draw the gliding fog-bank as a snake is drawn from the hole,
They bellow one to the other, the frighted ship-bells toll,
For day is a drifting terror till I raise the shroud with my breath,
And they see strange bows above them and the two go locked to death.
"But whether in calm or wrack-wreath, whether by dark or day,
I heave them whole to the conger or rip their plates away,
First of the scattered legions, under a shrieking sky,
Dipping between the rollers, the English Flag goes by.
"The dead dumb fog hath wrapped it -- the frozen dews have kissed --
The naked stars have seen it, a fellow-star in the mist.
What is the Flag of England? Ye have but my breath to dare,
Ye have but my waves to conquer. Go forth, for it is there!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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